The Dodo
Weeks passed. I had forgotten about the cold floors of that school and the frigid, calculating stare of the psychologist. Life returned to my usual concerns: being one of the only two Dodo birds in my class, trying to make it “Around the World” or at least beat one person with the multiplication flashcards—and striving for a C on my spelling tests.
One day after school, I noticed a stack of papers sitting on the counter at home. I flipped through them and realized they were the results of that dreadful day in testing. With no one around, I finally had the chance to read them (take that, psychologist). I scanned the pages, and a certain section screamed at me in the same red ink she used during the exam.
There was a list of “weaknesses” I couldn’t ignore: I did not regularly complete assignments. Poor organizational skills. Struggled to understand and follow class discussions. Trouble identifying short and long‑term vowel sounds. Difficulty using context to understand words. Trouble following written instructions. Punctuation. Capitalization. Multiplying numbers.
The results claimed I fell into the “average range of intelligence”—just barely—but they concluded two main points: This student’s abilities have been determined to be below grade level in language arts and possibly mathematics. But the kicker was the next sentence: “In comparison to his age group, Paul displays no significant strengths.”
I stopped reading as a silent dread crept over me. For a moment, I just stood there, holding those papers like they were a verdict pointing to the same conclusion: below average, behind, no strengths. Guilty! Guilty! Guilty!
I crawled into bed that night, struggling to digest the weight of the results. Yet I kept showing up to school, stumbling forward one sentence or math problem at a time. I barely passed elementary, but there were larger tests awaiting me in junior high.
“If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all liberally and without reproach, and it will be given to him.”
James 1:5
